


To Penelope

by speakertone



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Troilus and Cressida - Shakespeare
Genre: F/F, Letters, again based on the RSC prod, and also premediating murder but thats fine, odysseus is a woman!! good for her!!, odysseus is writing a letter to her wife!, thats whatever, there's some scene description but its mostly just the letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakertone/pseuds/speakertone
Summary: “Lover,” Ulysses writes in her room, setting pen to paper. She sits with a straight back and smiles.-She writes, knowing that it must be done.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (mentioned), Odysseus/Penelope
Kudos: 12





	To Penelope

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, context time! Based on the RSC prod of Troilus and Cressida (again) where  
> 1) Odysseus is played by a woman (they use she/her pronouns but still call her the "prince" of Ithaca which is so sick) and  
> 2) She's the one who kills Patroclus- and it's heavily suggested that she crafted this plan just to get Achilles back into action.
> 
> It's very good, and I can't stop thinking about her and Penelope, so I wrote it. Enjoy!

“Lover,” Ulysses writes in her room, setting pen to paper. She sits with a straight back and smiles.

“You will be much pleased to hear that the past few weeks have been wholly uneventful, though I confess that the stillness will always bring me unease. Call it a soldier’s curse or, perhaps, I am overthinking. You know very well that it would not be the first time. In any case, there have been no fights, which spares me the agony of watching men boast and beat their chests, flaunting like birds at mating season! Spare me, yes, gods, spare me! I only hope you don’t suffer the same back home!

“And speaking of home, is Telemachus well? The dear boy, I only hear of him in letters now, which is a shame. It sounds like he is growing into a fine young man! I’m certain I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry I’ve left you to raise him alone- if there is anything I can send from the front, you must tell me. Will an old sword suffice? Old shoes, old shirts, old scissors to trim his beard (no, my son cannot have a beard! He is too young still!), old bandages to wrap his wounds! The only new things I will be able to send are words! So, in that vein, do tell him that his mother loves him very much and that she will be home soon. I hope that it will only be another year.

“It is not unknown to you, the reason that we are… Shall I say, immobilized? But still, the ‘great’ lord Achilles refuses to fight! He’d claimed wounded pride, but I suspect that he stays stagnant for other, more pressing reasons. Men! Pitiable in spirit and in soul. I jest, naturally, knowing that we have a son, but would you were here, wife! It is unbearable! I laugh as I write this, knowing you will laugh as you read. Will you send me a kiss in your next letter?”

Ulysses pauses, scratches out the last sentence.

“What joy there is in love,” she writes, then scribbles it out as well. She frowns.

“Forgive the mess,” she starts again, “it is unlike me. But love has been on my mind as of late. Not for no reason, of course, but not for a pleasant one either. I must confess something to you.

“Achilles, as I’m sure you remember, has spent all his time recently with Patroclus, a very good man by all standards, and they seem quite enamored with each other, to say the least of it. They do try (poorly) to hide it, though I’m not sure why, and perhaps it works against those of us less perceptive (Agamemnon, for example, certainly knows nothing of this). But I am cursed with a keen eye and ear, as well you know. Achilles cares very much for him, and, it seems, is reluctant to fight as a result of this great love. Love, yes! Immobilizing love, self sacrificing love! Love can move a soldier (who thinks with his gut) to inaction- perhaps, then, love is not a moving force but a halting one. I can only imagine what comfort they derive from each other on a warfront (or what would be a warfront if they bothered to go to war!). You would laugh, wife, they are so much like we were, when we were young! Summer evenings where I lounge in your arms, I wipe fruit juice from your bottom lip and you smile at me, radiant. If you were here, I would like to lie in my room all day with you and refuse to fight as well. I see so much of us in these foolish young men! Achilles is so taken with the good Patroclus. 

"I must kill him.

“Lover, you know I do not act thoughtlessly, nor am I moved to action by my own desires alone, and if we are to win this war- if this war is to continue at all!- then I must take this action by my own hands. I will lie to Achilles, of course, and tell him that it was Hector. Who will deny me? Patroclus will be dead. The dead cannot speak. Then, will the boy be roused from his nap. I do not know if we will win on one man alone. I know, however, that this is the course I must take.

“Achilles is familiar to me, and he and I are similar- though I am more clever (and more handsome!) than he could hope to be. This cleverness is my undoing.

“I do not hope for Achilles’ forgiveness, or for Patroclus’. What I will do does not hinge on their willingness to play along. I can only hope for your forgiveness, Penelope. Surely you will think me heartless, but love and strategy are not friends, and only one belongs in a war. Achilles’ love, as I have said, resembles mine, and I know that if it were you (which I loathe to think on, to even consider!) then I would do the same.”

There is little expression on Ulysses’ face as she pens this, though her lip quivers.

“Wait for me,” she signs. “I hope I shall not be long.”

“Yours ever,

Ulysses.”


End file.
